S1W29: “Jitters”

© 2012 Phylicia Joannis

Chuck ambled slowly into the elevator leading to the main dispatch hub, cup of coffee in hand. His head was screaming at him, but there was nothing he could do. The detective wanted every employee in the office and accounted for. 

Chuck’s supervisor was in front of the elevator when the doors opened up to the main hub.

“Chuck, what is wrong with you?” she snapped. “I thought you were going to take a break, not go home!”

“I’d been here for over 12 hours,” Chuck glanced sideways at her, unwilling to look her in the face.

“I’ve been here for over 18,” she tossed back. “Chuck, this is a very serious situation. Until everything gets cleared up, I need you here. No more disappearing acts, are we clear?”

Chuck nodded. “Yeah, I got it.” Chuck meandered over to his desk and flopped into his revolving chair. He flipped on his computer and stared at the screen as it booted up.

“What am I gonna do?” Chuck whispered to himself.

“Long day, son?” the detective’s voice startled Chuck and he knocked over his coffee.

“Are you kidding me?” Chuck muttered angrily as he lifted his keyboard to safety.

“You’re really on edge, aren’t you?” the detective smiled.

Chuck grabbed a newspaper from his coworker – who was still reading it –  and mopped up the coffee.

“Hey!” his coworker began a colorful string of insults.

“Of course I’m on edge!” Chuck barely noticed his coworker’s ranting. “I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten, and I am – Chuck looked at the coffee stained newspaper – was on my tenth cup of coffee!”

The detective raised his eyebrows. “No worries, Chuck. It’ll all be over soon.”

Chuck paused. “Wh-what do you mean?”

The detective smiled. “We’re getting the technician’s statement as we speak. He’ll tell us what happened, how it happened, and then we’ll have our man.”

“Or woman,” Chuck added weakly.

The detective nodded as his phone chirped.

“Gates here.”

Chuck leaned in closer to the detective, straining to hear.

The detective noticed and turned around. Chuck could only hear the detective’s side of the conversation.

“Oh good,” the detective spoke slowly into the phone. “So have we got what we need?” The detective paused, then turned slowly back to Chuck, phone still in his ear. “That’s very interesting. Let me call you back.”

The detective flipped his phone shut and stared at Chuck.

Chuck swallowed. “So…what was that about?” Chuck stammered.

The detective smiled without humor.  “I just got the technician’s statement.”

***

Perry rushed to the Commissioner’s office, papers in hand. The Commissioner was with the Mayor, hammering out the details of the press conference.

“Ah, Perry,” the Commissioner welcomed him in. “I was just going over with Mitchell here how much more sense it made for me to talk about the sinkhole-”

“I thought we agreed not to call it that,” Mayor Blume interrupted him. “It’s not a sinkhole, it’s a compromised sidewalk, and we’re confident that when our preliminary reports are done we will have proof that this was an isolated incident. Make sure you emphasize that, and for the love of all that is political please use vague terms only. That’s speech 101, Commissioner Wright. Or should I call you Commissioner Wrong Again?” The Mayor laughed obnoxiously and the Commissioner winced.

Perry cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news again, but there’s been another sinkhole.”

“What?” The Commissioner snatched the papers in Perry’s hands and thumbed through them.

The Mayor stopped laughing.

“Where was this one?” the Mayor asked.

“Two blocks from the first.” The Commissioner smiled wryly at Mayor Blume. “I guess the ‘isolated incident’ speech will be a tough sell now, eh Mitchell?”